The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking
by Quatrina Raberba
Summary: *Before OLS* While Jim is sick, he and Gene reminisce...*COMPLETE!*
1. The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking -...

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. The peeps in Japan do.  
My first OLS fic. I might turn it into a series, I might not. Tell me what you think, so I'll know where to go on this. Before you read, lemme tell you some stuff. A) I don't know how old Gene was when his dad died, so, I may totally screw up about that. B) A lot of this stuff might not be accurate. So, don't kill me. C) This takes place BEFORE OLS. D) Enjoy...  
  
The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking  
pt. 1  
For the most part, he was worried. He had been like this for several days now, and didn't seem to be improving. There was, however, a part of him that was not concerned. The boy was young, and had gotten out of many scrapes. He knew his immune system could not fail, just as his mind never did. And if it did fail?  
  
No, it wouldn't come to that. He felt he was worrying over nothing.  
  
But the boy was something, wasn't he? He sighed as he sat down, while running his hand through his red hair. He was used to this kind of stress, but just the same, he'd rather not have to earn all of the money by himself. Wandering the streets, and looking for a job alone, was getting him no where. He needed the other half of Starwind and Hawking Enterprises, but unfortunately, the other half was not functional at all.  
  
He looked at the bed across the room, and slightly frowned. It seemed that lump in the sheets hadn't really moved much that day, much less say anything. He slowly, and silently got up from his chair, and made his way over to the bed. He didn't know much about this sort of situation. He was honestly thinking about finding a doctor, but money was something they didn't have much of. He was in what they called a slump. Jobs were getting scarce to find.  
  
He found his young partner curled up beneath the blue sheets, sleeping peacefully, his eye lashes resting upon his cheek. At least he was sleeping. Ever so quietly, he tried to cover up his friend better, wanting him to be as comfortable as possible; he had been complaining about being cold last night. The boy turned upon his back, but did not awaken. His dirty blond hair was disheveled, as well as having trickles of sweat in it. Cautiously, he put his hand on the boy's forehead, after which, brushed the bangs away from his serene face.  
  
There wasn't really much he could do, except hope his friend could wait it out. He decided that when he awoke, he would ask him if he wanted something to eat, though he was sure the answer would be no. He would just make him eat anyway. He turned around, and began to head out of the room. However, he was startled when he heard a voice coming from the lump in the bed.  
  
"Aniki," was the weak call. Gene Starwind abruptly stopped walking, as his face once again masked itself in its normal mask of security, and calmness.  
  
"So," he said, "you're awake."  
  
"You woke me up." Gene raised an eyebrow.   
  
"I did?" He walked over to the bed, his eyebrow still raised. "You can be such a light sleeper when you're sick, it could have been anything." Jim Hawking tried to sit up, his glassy eyes barely open. "I wouldn't do that." Gene pushed his friend back down. "Want something to eat?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, too bad." A sigh escaped Jim, as his partially opened eyes, closed again. He was too tired to argue. This was definitely not a good sign to Gene. "I'm going to go fix something for you. If you're asleep when I come back, I'll just wake you up." Gene didn't wait for an answer, as he left the room.  
  
Gene had many skills, as he had gained many scars while acquiring them. However, there was one thing that Gene was inadequate at, and he dreaded it. Cooking. Even young Jim surpassed his cooking skills, and neither of them were very good at it. Deciding just to make something simple, he stuck several pieces bread in the oven. He was actually hungry, unlike Jim, so he decided to make himself some toast as well.  
After turning on the oven, he sat on the counter, and patiently waited for his bread to become crispy. He quickly jumped off, however, when he thought he heard someone. A voice...Jim's voice.  
  
"Aniki!"   
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Aniki!" He truly sounded distressed this time.  
  
"I'm coming!" He quickly walked out of the kitchen and into Jim's room. His eyes darted around the room, as he wondered what was wrong.   
  
Nothing was amiss. "Jim?" He ran over to the bed. "Jim." His eyebrows shot up to see Jim asleep, his chest gently rising and falling. Maybe he had cried out in his sleep? Or maybe he didn't say anything at all. Gene rubbed his aching temples. "This stress is gettin' to me." After a few moments, his eyes grew wide. "The toast!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
Jim stared at his charred toast, his eyebrow slightly raised. "Sorry about the toast," muttered Gene, as he bit into a piece of the over-toasted toast.  
  
"S'ok," said Jim weakly. "I like the color black." Gene scowled, and snatched the toast off of Jim's plate.   
  
"You know, I didn't have to make this for you." He took a knife and began to scrape off the black crumbs from the toast. After a few minutes of doing that, he put what was left back on Jim's plate, which sat on the bed. "Try not to get crumbs on the sheets. I really don't like doing laundry." There was silence for a moment, as Jim picked up his toast and began to examine it.  
  
"Aniki," inquired Jim softly, "will you tell me a story?"  
  
"Don't you think you're a little...old...for that?" Gene spoke with his mouth full.  
  
"I just don't remember."  
  
"What? You can't remember your age?"  
  
"No." Jim looked a bit exasperated. "Can't remember how we met."  
  
"Oh." Gene set a piece of toast down on his plate. "So let me get this straight. You want me to tell you how we met?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And you can't remember?!"  
  
"I can, but some of it's foggy. Plus, I'm bored."  
  
"Oh..." He leaned back in his chair. "Fine, I'll tell you. But don't expect me to remember every little detail. And you have to eat your toast." He took a brief pause. "Now...let me see..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It had been a tough fight, but he finally had made a name for himself. Sure, it took some time - a year to be exact, but it was well worth the effort. Though his young age of 16, many knew him, and many feared him. Well...more people knew him than they did fear him, but that was okay....  
  
He was proud of who he was. His unique style, his read hair, and the red star he had recently tattooed on his arm. He even had his own business - Starwind Enterprises. What was it for? Anything, really. Just as long as it paid well, Gene Starwind didn't care what it was. But then again, that was what Starwind Enterprises was all about - any odd job he could find so he could continue on living.  
  
He still craved adventure, though...  
  
However, little did he know, for he was about to be sucked into one of the most fateful adventures of his life.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
His food tasted like trash, and if he hadn't of cooked it himself, he would have thought it was. Not only was the food nasty, but the building was as well. Gene never kept his home clean, just like any normal teenage boy. Of course, Gene knew he wasn't normal. Far from it, actually. He sighed as he looked down at his nasty pile of green mush...whatever it was. It was *supposed* to be scrambled eggs, but he didn't remember them ever being green...  
  
A knock echoed throughout the building, as his eyes looked up from his plate. Silently, he got up from his chair, and walked over to the door. Who would possibly come over this late at night? Maybe it was some hot girl...  
  
His face exposed a sly grin. He certainly hoped so. He casually opened the door, but to his utter disappointment, there stood a short, plump man, with dark eyes, and black hair. Unquestionably not the babe of his dreams. "You Gene Starwind?" The sly grin disappeared from Gene's face.  
  
"Yeah, I am."  
  
"Mind if I come in?" Gene raised an eyebrow.   
  
"That depends," he said slowly. The short man, brought one of his tanned, and scarred hands out from his pocket, revealing some money in its grasp.  
  
"I need you to do a job for me." Judging by the serious expression on the man's face (and the big wad of money), Gene decided that he was being truthful.  
  
"Then come in."  
  
"Thank you." The man slightly bowed, as Gene stepped out of the way. "My name is Adam Bailey," he said as he stepped in. "I don't believe we've met before." Gene eyed Adam carefully.  
  
"I've seen you at the bar with some other guy a couple of times, but we've never talked." Adam slightly nodded.  
  
"Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I've got a bounty hunting job for you to do." Adam slightly smiled. "That is, if you have experience." Now Gene had never really been given a job like that before, and as a result, did not have much experience being a bounty hunter, but that money sure was looking good...  
  
"Of course I've had experience!" Exclaimed Gene, who seemed appalled. Adam laughed quietly, as he pulled a small picture from his pocket. He handed it to Gene, who looked at it quietly.  
  
"My best friend." The picture was slightly blurry, but Gene could make out a tall man, with dark eyes, and red hair. "He looks a lot like you. Ever seen him before?"  
  
"Yeah - this is the guy you went to the bar with," answered Gene as he handed the picture back to Adam.  
  
"He was my best friend," sighed Adam sadly.  
  
"Was?" Adam, slipped the picture back into his pocket, as he looked at Gene square in the eye.  
  
"Yes; was. He's dead now. So is his wife." Adam scowled. "They were brutally murdered in their sleep. And I know who did it, too." He shook his head, as he turned away from Gene. "It's sickening."  
  
"I'm really sorry that your friend is dead and all, but..." Gene made an awkward face.  
  
"You want to know what this has to do with you," finished Adam, as he faced Gene again.   
  
"Right."  
  
"I want you to capture the murder...and kill him." Adam handed him yet another picture of a tall man, who appeared to be in his late 50's, his long hair completely gray, his eyes an odd shade of violet. He appeared to be a laid back person, and his smile was one of delight. "His name is Edward Knight." Gene wouldn't have known he was a murderer. "He was last seen two nights ago at a club a couple of blocks away from here."  
  
"I don't want to be nosy or anything but, why don't you take this to the police?" Gene looked at Adam a bit skeptically.  
  
"Well, I know this may sound silly, but," Adam somewhat smiled, "my friend never really...er...trusted the police. I figured I should leave them out of it, if I wanted to truly avenge to death of my friend."  
  
"One more thing."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"How much are you paying?" To Gene, this was the most important question.  
  
"1,000 wong." Gene grinned. "It's not that much, I know, but I'm only a lowly mechanic."  
  
"It's fine."  
  
"Another thing," said Adam. "If you find a kid with Knight, you bring him to me, okay? I didn't find my friend's kid anywhere, and I think Knight has him."  
  
"And if he's not with Knight?"  
  
"Then he's more than likely dead." Adam fished around in his pocket and handed him a wad of money. Gene counted it, and looked at Adam with a surprised expression.  
  
"This is 1,000 wong!"  
  
"I know. I'm paying you in advance."  
  
"What...?"  
  
"I trust you'll get the job done. Plus, you'll need some cash while looking for Knight, so..." Adam laughed, as he walked out of the door. "My number's on the back of that picture." He stopped walking and looked back at Gene. "But don't go thinking about copping out on me. If you do..." Adam unzipped his jacket a bit, enough to reveal a shiny pistol tucked neatly inside. "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that."   
  
Gene nervously chuckled a bit. "Oh, and, sir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What was your friend's name?"  
  
"James Hawking."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hey, Clyde." Gene Starwind leaned against the bar counter, while casually holding the picture of Edward Knight in his hand. "What you been up to?"  
  
"Oh, hey, Gene." Clyde, the bartender looked over at Gene, as he rubbed a small glass clean with a rag. "I thought I told you...you have to have an ID before you can drink. And since you're only 16, you don't have one."  
  
"I didn't come to drink, Clyde."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No." Clyde slowly walked over to where he was facing Gene. "I came here to ask you something."  
  
"And what would that be?" Gene held the picture in front of the bartender's face.  
  
"Ever seen this man before?" Clyde squinted at the picture a bit before nodding.  
  
"I have. Edward Knight."  
  
"What do you know about him?" Clyde raised an eyebrow as he thought for a moment. "He used to come here every night until recently. Don't know much about what happened to him, though."  
  
"Do you have any idea of his whereabouts?"  
  
"No, not really," sighed Clyde, as he continued cleaning the glass. "Though I did see him follow a guy named James Hawking when he left, if that helps any." Gene frowned a bit. "Gene, if you're doing what I think you're doing, forget about it."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You know what I'm talking about."  
  
"Whatever." Just then, a terrible sound came from outside, followed by many people screaming. Everyone in the bar looked around, not knowing what it was. Gene left his spot on the counter, and ran outside, into the cold, dark night.  
  
There, laying in the middle of the street, was the crumpled form of Adam Bailey, the street light reflecting on his bloody face. Quickly, Gene ran over to a terrified woman, who was in front of the bar. "Did you see what happened here?"  
  
"It was a hit and run," whispered the woman. "It was terrible!"   
  
"Did you see which way the car went?" The woman nodded, as she pointed towards a dark alley. "Thanks." Gene quickly ran past the man's body, and into the dark lane. He didn't have to run far, for halfway through the alley, was a red, convertible hovercar, floating above the dirty, gray concrete. Gene thought he heard a muffled child's cry, which immediately silenced.   
  
"I knew you'd come." An old man slightly chuckled as he stepped out of the classic. "Bailey...feh...who knew he'd drag someone down with him?" He eyes Gene a bit more carefully. "He hired a young one, did he? Stupid Bailey." Gene stepped forward, as he grabbed a knife from his pocket. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."   
  
"And why is that?" Inquired Gene, as he smirked. The old man smiled.  
  
"Stand up, kid." At first, Gene wondered if the old man had been speaking to him, but to his surprise, he saw a little boy stand up from the back seat of the car. He had dirty blond hair, and tearful, dark eyes. "You see this kid? He won't be standing anymore if you try to attack me. Got it?" The old man quickly drew out a gun. Gene sighed, as he still held his knife. "I'd forget about this whole thing, if I were you. You don't want to end up like your friend Bailey, do you? Or like James Hawking for that matter." The old man smiled, as a street light brushed against his features. That gray hair, and violet eyes...  
  
"You're Edward Knight!" The old man laughed.  
  
"Indeed. I see Bailey told you about me." Edward began to aim with his gun. "In that case, I'll have to kill you." Gene scowled. He wish he had brought his gun. "You know, I hear you're only 16. Too bad you'll have to die at such a young age. Oh, well." Edward laughed. "The fact you look older will make up for it, huh?"  
  
"Maybe so." It honestly looked like the old man was going to pull the trigger. The little boy looked over at his captor, and a small sob escaped him.  
  
"Shut up, kid. Let me show you what happened to your mommy and daddy." Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the little boy screamed, and jumped out from the car, landing on Edward Knight.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
"I think I'm going to stop there. You look pretty tired." Gene looked down at his ailing friend.  
  
"No...keep on going. I want to know..." Jim sighed softly, his eyes slowly closing.  
  
"You know what happens, Jim. Geez!"  
  
"It's so cool...the way you tell it."  
  
"Thanks, but I'll continue later, okay? You really look bushed." Before he even finished his sentence, Gene noticed his partner was already asleep. He gently brushed the bangs away from his face once again, as his eyes trailed over to the bed side table.  
  
"AGH! He didn't eat the toast!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~* End part 1  
  
Sooo...what did you think? Was it good, did it suck...?   



	2. The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking -...

The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking - pt 2  
  
As he washed a couple of dishes from the night before, Gene couldn't help but let his mind wander. It seemed as though things refused to get better. Jim seemed to be getting worse, and he was still lacking a job. Then again, maybe the fact he didn't have a job was a good thing, considering Jim shouldn't be left alone in his current state, but...  
  
He shook his head. They needed money, and that was that. He set the final clean dish down on the counter, as he sighed with exhaustion. After walking over to the refrigerator, he pulled out a carton of milk, and poured some of it into a newly washed glass. He whistled a tune, as he walked out of the kitchen and into Jim's room.  
  
The ailing boy was laying beneath the blue covers, his eyes closed. Gene knew he wasn't sleeping, as he noticed a little smile creep across his friend's face as he entered the room. "Hey, uh, I brought you some milk."  
  
"Thanks," said Jim softly. Gene walked over the bed, as he sat the glass on the bedside table.  
  
"How you feelin'?"  
  
"Okay." Jim managed a grin.  
  
"Oh, shut up. You feel like crap and you know it." A small laugh left Jim, followed by a loud cough. "You see?" Gene glanced at the glass of milk. "Think you could sit up for some of that?"  
  
"Yeah." Gene grabbed several pillows from the floor, and put them behind Jim, after which, propped the 10 year old against them. "Do I have to drink it?"  
  
"Yes, Jim, you have to drink your milk."  
  
"And the story...will you finish?"  
  
"I'm not falling for the same trick twice, Jim. As soon as you drink your milk, I'll tell you more."  
  
"Fine..." Gene handed the boy the glass, but as soon as it was in Jim's hand, it appeared he couldn't hold it still, as his hand was shaking.  
  
"Geez, Jim. You should have just told me that you couldn't hold the glass yourself!" Gene quickly grabbed the glass away from Jim.   
  
"I can hold it," muttered Jim defensively.   
  
"I already told you - I don't like doing laundry," shot back Gene, as he saw the drops of milk on the sheets. "Now hold still so I can hold the glass up to your mouth." Jim didn't say anything, however, he did what he had been told. "There." Gene held the glass up to Jim's mouth, as his young partner swallowed. As soon as he had finished, Gene pulled the glass away, and put it on the bedside table. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Jim didn't answer, as he just stared at Jim, with a displeased look. "Hey, you'd better be nice if you want me to finish that story."  
  
"Fine," a defeated Jim sighed. "Just as long is you finish." Gene grinned as he pulled up a chair next to the bed.  
  
"Now...where did I leave off?" He sat down in the chair. "Oh, yeah. Now I remember..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The child's scream echoed throughout the dark alley, as he landed upon the older man, who in fact, was not happy at all with the boy's behavior. The boy's nails dug into Edward's skin, causing the murderer to bellow obscenities at the child. Out of all of the confusion, though, there was one thing Gene seemed to notice in particular - Edward's gun flew out of his hand, and onto the hard, wet concrete. "Yes!" He ran over to the gun, and picked it up. He couldn't help but admire it. "This thing is a classic!"   
  
"Indeed," muttered the man, as he tossed the kid off of his bleeding arm. "The bullets are rare." The little boy landed painfully against a garbage can, and seemed to lose consciousness. Gene smirked as he aimed the gun at Edward. He pulled the trigger...  
  
...and nothing happened.   
  
"That's why I didn't load it." Gene stared at the blue eyed man in disbelief.  
  
"No way! You mean it never had bullets in it?! This whole time?!"  
  
"I don't see how you could interpret 'I didn't load it' in any other way."  
  
"Crap!" Gene scowled, as he tossed the gun aside. Again, he pulled out his knife, and began to charge at his enemy.  
  
"You know," said Edward, as he barely dodged the knife. "We don't have to do this."  
  
"Yeah, but I want to!" Gene once again charged at Edward. This was thrilling, and he had no idea why. However, for an man in his fifties, Edward moved rather quickly, and he appeared to be bored, each time he dodged Gene's would-be devastating blows.   
  
Much to Gene's delight, though, he got his opponent in the face. That delight quickly disappeared, as Edward pulled his hand away from his face, revealing only a small, bloody gash...and he was laughing. "Boys will *always* be boys." He grabbed Gene's arm, barely keeping the knife away from his chest. "Listen - I already got what I wanted. Whether the boy lives or dies doesn't matter to me. My work is done." He shoved Gene down, who immediately got right back up.   
  
Unfortunately, Edward had already gotten back in his car, and was driving out of the alley. However, Gene could hear the man's voice over the engine. "You know too much, kid! I'd watch your back, because someday, I'll be there!" Gene growled, as he slammed his fist at the wall.   
  
"If only I had gotten into more fights...I would have known..." He sighed, as he looked at his bleeding knuckle. "So...what do I do now?" He looked at the gun, which was only about five feet away. Well, he may as well get something out of this miserable defeat. Slowly, he picked up the gun and examined it. "No way! A Caster?!" Sure enough, it was an old Caster gun from long ago, still in good condition. "And that old fool left it here?! Geez!" He slipped it into his pocket. It would serve him well later, he was sure.   
  
He was startled to hear a soft moan coming from the trash cans. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about him." He cautiously walked over to where to sound came from, and saw the dirty blond headed kid laying on the ground. He wanted to leave him. After all, what use would a kid be to him? But then again...  
  
He smiled. Yeah, this kid would serve him well. Besides, he would have a tinge of guilt for the rest of his life, if he left a young child on the streets, though he would never admit it to himself. It seemed part of his heart went to the vulnerable boy. He went over to the boy and checked him over. He didn't seem to have many injuries. After picking him up, he was surprised at how light the boy was.   
  
By now, the boy was partially awake, his eyes only halfway open. He snuggled against Gene's somewhat broad chest; something Gene had not expected. "Daddy..." Gene's muscles tightened.   
  
"What...?" The boy did not respond, as his breathing became a soft rhythm. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. That picture of James Hawking...looked like Gene himself. Adam Bailey had even commented on it. And in the dark of the night, it would be difficult for a barely conscious kid to tell the difference.  
  
He just hoped the kid's reaction wouldn't be too violent when he discovered his father was dead, as well as his mother...   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
He ran through a dark corridor, running from the shadows that pursued him. How long had they been chasing him? Not even he really knew. But he knew what he was running for. "Mommy! Daddy!" It was cold, and it was dark. He wanted to go home. Was it too much to ask for? He was beginning to wonder. Soon, though, he felt the cold slowly begin to disappear. What substituted it was a soft, and inviting warm feeling that encased his entire body. He wanted to stay in it forever...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
His eyes shot open, as grabbed onto the sheets that protected him. He felt someone's warm back pressed against his own. His first impression was that it was his father, but his eyes grew wide as he heard the stranger snore. Though he didn't know his father as well as he wanted to, he knew for a fact that his father *never* snored.   
  
So...if this wasn't his father, then what the old man had said was true.  
  
His mommy and daddy had gone to a far away place, and they would never come back.   
  
He sat up, and cast his eyes about the dirty, dark room. Clothes were strewn out all over the place! His captor apparently was not a good housekeeper. He immediately got on his knees and looked over the strange man's shoulders. No, this was *not* his original kidnapper, but a young man, who looked, painfully, like his father. The red hair was what stood out the most. The same texture, the same style.   
  
A hot tear escaped his eye, rolled down his cheek, and plopped onto the stranger's face. His face flinched, and the little boy quickly resumed his place under the covers. The man looked kind to a certain degree, and he almost felt as though he could trust him, but still, this man was a stranger. "Hey, kid...you awake?" For a moment, he forgot how to breath. This voice...it seemed laid back, and not very harsh. It was gentle to a point, yet it didn't compare to his father's all around gentle nature. Though one side of himself was screaming to him to pretend he was asleep, the other half of him answered.  
  
"Um...yeah." His voice trembled as it spoke. The stranger sat up, as he wiped something that was glistening off of his cheek.  
  
"You took a hard hit to the head. You okay?" He didn't want to answer, even though it seemed as though those dark eyes of the stranger's said that he expected it. The truth was, he didn't know how to respond. His parents had just been murdered, he had been kidnapped, and now he's in some uncomfortable bed with some weird guy, who dared to even resemble his father! The stranger still looked upon the boy, as he extended his hand out. "The name's Gene Starwind," he said coolly. "What's yours?"  
  
All hope, even though it wasn't that much, that his father was still alive, vanished. He no longer had the will to speak, as what was left of it also died. And, much to this Gene Starwind's dismay, the dark eyed boy did the only thing any normal young child would do at a time like this...  
  
Throw up. And unfortunately for the man in front of him, he was in his line of fire.   
  
"Crap!!" Gene got up from the bed while looking at his soiled shirt in disgust. He jumped out of the bed and ran out of the room, screaming obscenities all the way. The little boy sighed, as he raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Um...oops." He raised his voice a bit. "My name's Jim Hawking!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Kid, were you ever taught proper manners?" Gene threw off the now stained sheets from the bed onto the floor. "I hate doing laundry."  
  
"I'm really sorry," said Jim, the young boy, who had more than likely ruined Gene's sheets, as well as a good shirt.  
  
"Yeah, kid..." Gene appeared to be quite miffed, but at least he wasn't as angry as he had been earlier.  
  
"My name's Jim; Jim Hawking." Jim looked a bit annoyed himself.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Gene threw the last sheet on the floor. "I didn't seem to hear you the first time, due to...um...unusual circumstances." Jim was starting to turn a slight shade of red. He came to the conclusion that if this guy meant to hurt him, he would have done it earlier. Maybe he wasn't as bad as he thought he was. The teen stepped back and looked over the bed. "Well, we won't be able to sleep in this for awhile, that's for sure."  
  
"How long am I going to be here?" Jim inquired.  
  
"For awhile, kid." Jim appeared a bit annoyed. "Get used to it." The boy tried to refrain from crying, as his lips curved downward. "Hey, hey!" Gene walked over to a saddened Jim, and looked him square in the eye. "Be a man." The little boy put his hands on his hips.  
  
"I *am* a man!" He exclaimed, his eyes narrow.  
  
"Then don't cry." Almost as soon as Gene had made the statement, Jim straightened up, wiped the tears from his eyes, and any signs of distress disappeared. "Good." He looked down at Jim's stained overalls. "You don't want to sleep in that. Stay here." Gene didn't even give the boy a backward glance, as he walked to his closet, and began to rummage around. "You know," he said, as he looked, "what you did back there to that Knight guy was pretty cool. You've got guts. Even though they can't hold your food very well, they're there."  
  
"Thanks," said Jim, wondering if he was supposed to take that as a complement.  
  
"No problem." Gene exited the closet, with a large, blue T-shirt in his hand. He casually tossed it to Jim, who caught it with relative ease. "Put that on." Jim nodded, as Gene picked up the dirty sheets, and exited the room. The little boy sighed as he took off his clothes, and slipped on the extremely immense, blue shirt. Not longer after he had put on the strange shirt, Gene walked back into the room, a bit more relaxed than he had been earlier.  
  
"I'm sorry about all that, Mr. Starwind." Gene softly laughed, as he made a peculiar expression at Jim. "Call me Gene - everybody does."  
  
"Um...okay, Gene." It felt awkward to the boy's tongue.  
  
"Looks like we won't be sleeping on the bed." Though the sheets were stripped from the bed, it still didn't seem that becoming to sleep in. Jim sighed as he looked up at Gene. For some reason, his presence was almost comforting; he wondered why.   
  
"Nope. Guess not."  
  
"Well, now that I'm fully awake, I'm hungry." Gene turned towards Jim. "Want something to eat?"  
  
"No, thanks." The boy was in fact hungry, but he wanted to take the advise that so many others had given him so many times before. Never take food from a stranger.   
  
"Suit yourself. You're missing out on *a lot*."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Jim Hawking had never seen someone eat so fast in his entire life - or that much, for that matter. He raised an eyebrow, as he saw his new friend pour himself a third bowl of cereal. He was going to comment on his eating habits, but he decided not to. It was the man's home - he could do whatever he wanted. "You sure you don't want any?" Gene looked up from his bowl, taking a brief brake from eating.  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"Cool. More for me." The brake was over, and Gene resumed eating. Within a few quick moments, the cereal was gone. Gene shoved the bowl away from him, and grinned. Obviously, he was finished.  
  
"Now what?" Jim couldn't believe he actually asked the question.  
  
"Bed," muttered Gene as he stood up from his chair, his stomach finally filled. He frowned slightly. "Oh, yeah. We can't." He looked at Jim. "Any ideas?" Jim was quiet for a moment, before he finally spoke.  
  
"You have a couch?"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Gene shifted uncomfortably, as he pulled the sheets up to his chest. The kid had offered to sleep on the floor, and Gene had no problem letting him. His eyes wandered along the ceiling, as he sighed. Adam Bailey was dead - the person who had offered to take the kid off of his hands. So, what happened to the kid? Surely he, a 16 year old, wouldn't be placed with that sort of responsibility. To take care of a kid, who had just suffered the loss of his parents was unthinkable to him!   
  
He knew that once the child got over the shock of everything, he would be extremely depressed. Comforting was *not* one of Gene's skills. Not only did he have a kid to look after, but some crazy man chasing him - a crazy man who had damaged his pride considerably. This angered Gene, and he wanted to get Edward Knight off of his back as soon as possible. He had double checked the locks, and sealed all of this windows. He knew he wouldn't fall asleep, and would pay close attention to his surroundings. Even if the murderer hadn't of threatened him, he wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway.  
  
He listened to the soft breathing of the child on the floor. He knew it had to be uncomfortable, but then again, the old couch he was currently on wasn't exactly a cloud. By now, he was counting the cracks in the ceiling, his silent counting's rhythm matching the boy's steady breathing. It was difficult to support himself, and he knew if Jim lived with him it would be even harder to support them both. Unless somehow the boy could become apart of them business...  
  
He shook his head. What would a child his age have to offer for their benefit? *But then again,* he thought, *fate has away of laughing at us sometimes.* Maybe the child had some sort of talent that Gene did not know about? He wasn't sure, but he had a feeling that he would be with the child for a long time, and he would eventually see them. Time could only tell.  
  
His muscles grew tense, as he felt a small hand lift up the sheets. He shut his eyes, so the child wouldn't know he was awake with worry. After a few seconds, he felt a small body climb onto the couch, and hesitantly settle against his own. Within a few moments, the child's tight muscles became relaxed, and soon his breathing was once again slow and steady. Gene opened his eyes, and looked to his right to find Jim's small head resting upon his broad shoulder.  
  
The sight of the vulnerable youth almost made his worries go away. However, they returned as quickly as they had left.  
  
"1...2...3...4..." His whisper could be barely heard. Despite the fact there was much Gene didn't know, he did know one thing - it was going to be a long night. "...5...6...7..8..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Jim?" Gene leaned forward in the chair, as he looked closer at his friend. The sickly boy had his hand over his face, and he didn't seem to be responding. "Jim?" Was he...embarrassed? As he strained to look closer, he thought he something glistening on his cheek. No, he wasn't embarrassed...but crying? Gene concluded that it was his imagination, as Jim removed his hand, revealing nothing on his cheek.  
  
"Yeah?" Jim looked up at his older friend, with a slight grin.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You going to finish, Aniki?"  
  
"Yeah," answered Gene as he got up from his chair. "Let me get a glass of milk first, though." Jim frowned a bit. "No, it's for me!"  
  
"Oh..."  
  
End part two   
  
  



	3. The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking -...

  
Part three  
  
Gene Starwind sipped on his milk, as he leaned back against the refrigerator, and his mind brushed along the events that had happened so long ago, yet so recently. He had remembered more than he had thought, and, much to his surprise, he enjoyed telling his recollections to Jim more than he would ever realize.   
  
He glanced at his empty glass and sat it on the counter. He enjoyed beer *a lot*, but he thought milk was okay, too...  
  
He sighed as he walked out of the kitchen and into Jim's room. As he silently entered, he found Jim wide awake, waiting for his return. Yes, he seemed tired, and extremely pale, but despite of how drained he felt, he was eager to hear the rest of Gene's tale. Gene, of course, thought that was very odd, considering he had thought that Jim would be bored with the account before he had even gotten half way through.  
  
*It's funny how things turn out the way we don't expect*, thought Gene, as he sat down in the chair. *If I've learned anything from life, it would have to be that.* "Okay," he said as folded his arms. "Where did I leave off?" He thought for a moment.  
  
"You forgot?" Jim made an odd look at Gene.  
  
"No," muttered Gene. "I remember. I was just testing you."  
  
"Just go on."  
  
"Fine, fine..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
His eyes slowly opened, as he felt the sunlight flood his vision. After squinting a bit, he quietly yawned, while popping his neck. So, he had slept after all - not well, but at least he had not stayed up the *whole* night counting cracks in the ceiling. His eyes slightly widened, as he realized there was a small body in his arms, that was snuggling against his chest.  
  
He had hoped it had been a dream.  
  
*Well, it wasn't, Starwind, so get over it!* The child shifted, but did not awaken. What was he going to do with the kid? He had pondered the question constantly the night before, but came to no conclusion. He certainly couldn't leave Jim on the streets, though he had thought about it several times. It seemed rather selfish, and just plain stupid.  
  
"Mommy..." The child mumbled a bit, as he snuggled closer to Gene. "Daddy." Obviously, he was dreaming. He clutched Gene's hand, with a slight smile. "Aniki."  
  
He stared down at Jim in disbelief. Had that been directed towards him? He wasn't sure. He listened a bit, to see if he could hear fragments of Jim's dreams, but the boy didn't utter another word. Gene quietly laughed to himself. This "aniki" probably was someone he had never met before.   
  
He deemed himself foolish for thinking that Jim was calling to *him*.   
  
A beam of light that had squeezed itself between the window blinds, found its way to Jim's face, casting a heavenly glow on the innocent face. Jim's dark eyes slowly opened, and looked to find that he was tucked safely beneath the sheets, and in Gene's arms. "I thought it was a dream," he muttered, as he stretched a little bit.  
  
"You're not the only one, kid," sighed Gene. To him, Jim seemed to be holding up pretty well. He wondered how long it would last, though...  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"I don't know." Jim closed his eyes again.  
  
"I'm still sleepy." *How does he do it?* Gene asked himself several times. *He's just lost his folks, yet he's totally comfortable. As if he liked my being around. - or his staying here.* He raised an eyebrow. *Or maybe it still hasn't hit him.* It almost made him feel sorry for Jim. Gene bit his lip. He was very tired, but he did know one thing - this was certainly no time to sleep.  
  
"I think we should get up." Gene sat up, with Jim still in his arms. "Hop up, kid." Jim sighed, as he got up from the couch. "Want something to eat?"  
  
"Hm," Jim thought for a brief moment. "Yeah, I guess so."  
  
"Fine, I'll get you something." Gene quietly yawned again, as he got up from the couch. "You like cereal?"  
  
"Sure, I guess."  
  
"Good." Gene casually walked into the kitchen, and picked up a cereal box that was still on the table, laying on its side.  
  
"Is cereal all you eat?" Gene looked up from the bowl he was pouring cereal in.  
  
"No," he said, slightly laughing. "I just don't want to torture you with my cooking."  
  
"Um, okay." Jim sat down in a chair, nearly tripping on his large shirt. Before Jim even realized it, a bowl of odd shaped cereal was placed before him.   
  
"Eat up, kid."  
  
"Thanks." Jim immediately dug in, devouring all that was in his bowl. Gene watched silently, as Jim quickly ate. He was obviously hungry. Gene snickered a bit, as he wondered if he looked just as ridiculous when he ate.  
  
"I'm surprised you haven't choked yet." Jim instantly quit eating, as he looked up from his bowl. "No, no. Don't stop. Keep on eating." Jim didn't protest, as he continued feasting upon his breakfast. After Jim was finally done, he set the spoon down, and looked up at Gene.  
  
"Aren't you going to eat some?" Gene shook his head.  
  
"Nah," he muttered. "I'm not hungry." Jim sighed, as he pushed the bowl away from him.   
  
"So, what happens now?" The boy looked over at Gene, with his dark eyes. Gene thought he could see something in them; something along the lines of fear, or anxiety.  
  
"Well," said Gene, somewhat stalling, "it's too early to tell." He sighed. "And it's driving me nuts!"  
  
"Shouldn't we look at the problem?" Gene shook his head.  
  
"We don't even know what problem we have."  
  
"Yeah, we do!"  
  
"Well, yeah, okay, I'll admit it. A crazy old man chasing us *is* a problem, but he hasn't exactly struck yet. As far as I know, he could be bluffing."  
  
"He's serious," said Jim darkly, as he stared down at his feet. "He probably is chasing us. Maybe he just wants to trick you into thinking he's not."  
  
"That's a possibility." Gene frowned, as he sat in a chair next to Jim. "But I'm not just going to sit here and wait for him to attack me."  
  
"It would be the best thing to do." Raising an eyebrow, Gene thought for a moment. He thought it was very odd, to be discussing this sort of thing with a young child that he had just barely met. Gene had always considered himself a loner, not one to really have a partner for anything. He wanted no one to be a partner with him - and that went double for small children. But...who said he had to be his partner?  
  
"Oh, is that so?" Jim scowled at Gene's question.  
  
"I just don't want..." he sighed, as turned away from Gene.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The same thing that happened to my parents to happen to you." Jim looked at Gene, with a pained expression on his face. "You're the only friend I have now."  
  
"Oh..." Gene was at a loss of words. This child was far more mature than that of a seven year old. If it weren't for the chubby cheeks, and small height, he would have mistaken him for someone much older. "I'm tough, kid. I can handle it myself." Gene noisily got out of his chair, and swiftly walked out of the kitchen. Jim laid his head upon the table, while biting his lip.  
  
He had just lost his parents, been kidnapped, and was with an odd teen. So, why was he acting this way? He just wasn't sure, and it drove him insane. This teenager was a complete stranger, and definitely *nothing* like his father, personality wise, anyway. Why did he feel attached to him? Why did he feel fond of a pitiless, and messy teenager? Again, he wasn't sure.  
  
A laugh leaked out of Jim, that echoed through the kitchen walls. He was scared out of his mind, and the only thing he could do was *laugh*. A few minutes passed, and soon, the quiet laughing had ceased. What now replaced the laughing was a small tapping sound.  
  
Tap tap...tap tap...  
  
He got up from his chair, and strained to listen. It sounded like it was coming from the door. The knocking sounded urgent, and Jim decided, with curiosity, that he wanted to check it out himself. He dashed out of the kitchen, as he still listened the soft knocking, it being his guide to the door. He noticed that the door was dead bolted, thus locking the door.  
  
Maybe it wasn't a good idea to open the door after all. Just as he was about to turn around, he heard a familiar voice from behind the door.  
  
"Open the door!" Could it be? He stepped closer towards the door in anticipation. "Is anyone here?" Yes! It had to be! He knew that voice from anywhere! An old friend of his father's...good old Jayward. Maybe his father was still alive, and Jayward had come to take him back...?  
  
Perhaps a slim chance, but Jim was still hoping.   
  
His hope, and the familiarity of the voice, seemed to take over his body, as he slowly unlocked the door. As he was opening the door, he heard a voice ring out through the room.  
  
"Kid! What are you doing?!" Gene came running to the door. "Don't open it!" It was too late, though, as the door swung open, and there stood a tall, young man, wearing a trench coat. His blond hair covered his gray eyes.  
  
"Mr. Jayward!" Cried Jim with delight. "How did you find me?" The man's face went pale.  
  
"Jim...!" He looked down at the child. "I didn't know you were here."  
  
"You didn't?" All traces of happiness vanished from Jim's face. "So, you never found daddy."  
  
"What? Your father's missing?"  
  
"Hey, hey!" Gene pulled a small pistol from his pocket. "I hate to break up this reunion, but what do you want? I don't know you, and you just said you didn't know Jim was here." Jayward sighed, as he clenched his fist.  
  
"I don't want to do this...but I must." Without warning, he swung his fist at Jim, hitting the boy across the face. He flew back, and landed on the floor, with a small cry. Gene growled, as he held his pistol firmly in his hands.  
  
"One more move and you're dead." Jayward frowned, as stared down at the motionless boy not too far from him. "Now...raise your hands in the air." He did as he was told. "Give me an explanation."  
  
"I'm a bit confused myself."  
  
"Who told you to come here?" Jayward looked away from the child. "If you value your life, you'd tell me."  
  
"I no longer value it." He smirked. "Go ahead - shoot me."   
  
"You may not value your life...but do you value his?" Gene pointed the gun towards Jim, who was still on the floor.   
  
"The boy!" Gasped Jayward, his hands still in the air. "You wouldn't!"  
  
"I wouldn't?" He aimed a bit more carefully. Deep down inside, Gene knew he wouldn't pull that trigger. He was still unsure what he would do if the man still refused to answer.  
  
"Okay! Okay!" He exclaimed. "I'll tell you." Gene didn't bother looking at Jayward.  
  
"Start talking."  
  
"A long time ago," began Jayward, "I was in serious debt. I was constantly getting calls, from my creditors, and was being harassed by unwanted mail, threatening that I would be put in jail. James Hawking, a close friend of mine, offered to help, however, it was to no avail. I eventually came across a man who told me that he would pay off my bills. We became good friends after that. I one day asked him if should pay him back, and he simply replied I did not need to pay him any money. He told me that I could do a favor for him someday."  
  
"And this would be it?" Inquired Gene, who seemed to be a little more than impatient.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You still didn't answer my first question - who sent you here?" Gene gripped the gun a bit tighter, as he refused to waver his aim at the small boy, who appeared to be waking up.  
  
"Edward Knight." Gene grunted with disgust.  
  
"I figured." There was a brief silence. "Tell me. Did you know that Edward Knight murdered your 'good friend' James Hawking?" Jayward turned a shade whiter.  
  
"I-I did not! I s-swear it!"  
  
"And did you know he murdered his wife, too?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"And not only that, he tried to kidnap Jim Hawking!"  
  
"It's not true!" Jayward scowled. "You're lying!"  
  
"I'm not lying. I'm one of the few people who knows, and now he's trying to get me off of his back. Now you know, and soon you'll be on Knight's hit list, just like me!"  
  
"I'm not going to sit here and take this crap from you!" Much to Gene's surprise, Jayward lowered his hands, and pulled out a peculiar looking gun. Gene knew he should probably shoot Jim, otherwise it would make it look like everything he said was a lie. Also, he didn't really know what that gun did, and he honestly didn't want to find out.  
  
"I'm warning you!" Exclaimed Gene, though he had no idea what he was going to do.   
  
"No," muttered Jayward angrily. "If anyone should be doing the warning, it should be me!" He gripped the gun tighter. "And your warnings are all used up." And without even a flinch, he pulled the trigger.  
  
"Aniki!" A wail echoed through the room, as Jim leaped in front of Jayward. It seemed to Gene, he was completely paralyzed.   
  
*Did he just call me that?!*  
  
But there was no time to think about that, as Jim gasped out in pain, and fell onto the floor. Gene still had no idea what that had been, considering there had been no loud gunshot. If he had not seen Jayward pull the trigger, he would have assumed he hadn't of pulled it at all.  
  
"Jim...!" Jayward dropped the gun in surprise. "Jim?!" Gene ran over to Jim, his gun still in his hands. His eyes were closed , and it seemed he was gasping for breath. The teen checked the younger boy for any injuries, but only found a small stream of blood on his arm...and a needle sticking out of it.  
  
"What is this?" Gene queried, as he yanked the needle out of Jim's limp arm.  
  
"An injection of some sort," answered Jayward quickly, as he ran to Jim's side. Gene looked up at Jayward, with anger beginning to ignite in his eyes.  
  
"What kind of injection?"  
  
"A poison," Jayward managed to choke out. "He'll be dead within 12 hours."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A shudder passed through Jim's ailing body, as he curled up under the sheets. He remembered that sensation very well. Dizzy, confused, weak...  
  
He sighed. Sure, this story was bringing many good memories back, but still, there were some he'd just rather forget.  
  
"That was the first time I really called you 'Aniki'," whispered Jim, still drained from his illness. Gene, who was still sitting in his chair, nodded.  
  
"Yeah, I guess it was." Jim chuckled softly.  
  
"You're embarrassed."  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Whatever." Though Gene acted totally comfortable, he couldn't fool Jim. His face was a slight shade of red. Sometimes it seemed real difficult to keep his calm, cool exterior in front of Jim. "Hey, um, want some chips?" Gene was dying to get out of the room for a moment, Jim could tell.   
  
"You're not trying to avoid telling the rest, are you?" Jim managed a weak smile.  
  
"Um...no, no. That's not it at all. I'm just hungry."  
  
"You're always hungry," Jim's little smile grew a bit bigger, "Aniki." Gene scowled and he quietly left the room.  
  
*He'll be back...*  
  
End part three  



	4. The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking -...

The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking - 4  
  
Gene grumbled a bit as he poured a bag of chips into a blue bowl. He grabbed one from the heap, and stuffed it into his mouth. With several crunches, he chewed on it slowly. It was hard for him to believe that he was still telling Jim his tale. After all, shouldn't he be looking for a job? It was nice to go over happenings of long ago, but money was important too!   
  
He could not believe he was actually telling his ten year old sidekick a story. There were other things that needed to be done - and entertaining Jim was not one of them! He scowled as he entered Jim's room, the bowl of potato chips in his hand.  
  
He opened his mouth to tell Jim he would not finish the story for the rest of the day, but go off to find a job. To tell him they needed money, so perhaps he could try to get medication to help ease the sickness that plagued Jim. But the words did not come, as he saw Jim laying on his bed, his eyes close, a small smile across his face.  
  
This child had too much of a grip on him. And he didn't like it.  
  
He sighed, as he sat down next to Jim's little bed. "I'm back," muttered Gene, as he set the chips on the bed side table.   
  
"Knew you would be," said Jim quietly, as he opened his eyes.  
  
"You look tired, Jim." Gene leaned forward in his chair, as he tried to hide the concern from his face.  
  
"I'm sick, Aniki," Jim said hoarsely, as he showed signs of being annoyed   
  
"I know *that*!"  
  
"The story."  
  
"You still want to hear that?"  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"What am I going to do with you?" Gene sighed, as he grabbed a handful of chips from the bowl. "Let's see..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"What?! What do you mean he'll be dead within 12 hours?!" Gene stared at the other man in disbelief.  
  
"Just as I said. The poison will kill him within 12 hours," replied Jayward grimly.  
  
"Is there an antidote?"   
  
"I think so," said Jayward slowly, "but I think Edward Knight has it. He said something about thinking someone would shoot him, so he keeps it on him." He took the limp child into his arms. "We can't go to him, though. That injection was meant for you, and he would know I failed if I asked for an antidote. If not that, he would think I joined you, and that I was going to poison him."   
  
"Then there's only one thing to do," said Gene grimly, as he took Jim away from Jayward's arms. "We steal it from him."  
  
"Do you have any idea what you are proposing!?" Jayward stared at Gene.  
  
"I'm not proposing anything," muttered Gene, as he stood up, with Jim in his arms. "I'm demanding it."  
  
"What?!" Jayward also stood up from the floor. "I want Jim to live, too, boy, but it's risky to get the antidote."  
  
"Risky? Since when were *you* afraid of taking risks? Just coming over here was a big risk for you! You're just scared of Knight!" Jayward scowled. "Besides, this kid took the bullet for me. I need to try to save him at least!"  
  
"You mean needle."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Took the needle for you." Whether Jayward was trying to be humorous or not was beyond Gene.  
  
"Don't be cute with me," said Gene angrily, as the child in his arms wheezed for air.   
  
"Who's being cute?" Jayward looked at Jim, and his face softened. "Jim means a lot to me, boy. I don't want to lose him."  
  
"Look who's talking. You're the one who shot him!"  
  
"Correction - You allowed him to be shot." Jayward turned away from Gene, angrily. "I will not be blamed. After all, the only reason why I punched him was so he wouldn't get in the way." Gene had to refrain from tearing apart the blond man.  
  
"Listen, pal, we both want this kid to live. He has 12 hours to live, and arguing isn't going to get us any closer to the antidote. I'd cooperate with me if I were you."  
  
"Is that a threat?" Inquired Jayward, who was still turned away from Gene.  
  
"Well, are you going to cooperate or not?" Jayward clenched his fists at Gene's question.  
  
"I'll have to think about it." Gene's mouth slightly hung open.  
  
"Think about it? This kid is dying over here, and you're going to think about it."  
  
"We've got 12 hours," defended Jayward.  
  
"Yeah, but did you think about how long it would take for the antidote to work?"  
  
"The poison worked instantly. Why wouldn't the antidote?"  
  
"Look; either way we do this, we're taking a big risk. Get over it. I'm not going to sit around and wait for you to make up your mind. I'll just ask around on where Knight is."  
  
"It won't get you anywhere. He left his home last week." Jayward turned to Gene, a smirk on his face, after he made the comment.  
  
"Then where is he?"  
  
"I'm certainly not telling."  
  
" Mister...Jayward..." A weak voice called out from the bundle in Gene's arms. "Help...him. He's not...a bad...person."  
  
"Jim?" Jayward stepped towards Gene to get a closer look at the boy. Gene, however, pulled away from the other man.  
  
"He saved...me...Mister...Jayward." Jayward raised an eyebrow as he looked at Gene, as he listened to Jim's advice. "He's...not bad..." Jim gasped for breath, as he clutched Gene's shirt. Jayward's gray eyes narrowed, as he bit his lip.  
  
"Fine. You have my cooperation," muttered Jayward as he walked towards the door. "I'll take you to where Edward Knight is. We're using my car."  
  
"Fine with me." Gene followed Jayward to the door. "But let me make myself clear. What happens to me, happens to the kid."  
  
"Was that also a threat?" Queried Jayward, as he stopped walking.  
  
"I'll leave that up to you," muttered Gene, while he passed Jayward.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
There was no doubt about it - that car was definitely the same car Knight had used the night before. Gene frowned a bit, as he glared at Jayward, who was driving at the time. He wondered if the man was just playing dumb, not knowing about the murders. It wouldn't surprised Gene, if he was. At this point, however, he was desperate, and desperation was *not* something Gene enjoyed.  
  
"How long is it until we get there? We've been driving for hours!" Jayward kept his eyes on the road, despite Gene's complaints.  
  
"Actually, we've only been driving for 30 minutes," retorted Jayward. Gene observed the trees they drove by, and noticed that they were driving further away from any high populated areas.   
  
"This Edward Knight guy seems pretty secluded."  
  
"Oh, no. Not at all." Jayward smiled a bit. "He enjoys the city very much."  
  
"Hm," muttered Gene. "Could have fooled me."  
  
"He never made sense to me." There was a brief silence, as Gene looked down at the moaning boy in his arms. "We need a plan, boy, if we want to get the antidote successfully."  
  
"I was planning on just busting in there."  
  
"Bad idea," warned Jayward, as he pressed harder on the gas petal. "He isn't stupid. He'll shoot you the moment you walk in."  
  
"He has the antidote on him, doesn't he?"  
  
"Yes, he does."   
  
"Then he can't be that smart!" Jayward didn't say anything to Gene's remark, as he continued driving. "Seriously! Who keeps something like that with them?"  
  
"He's very cautious, but just as reckless. He doesn't trust me, to an extent, and he certainly doesn't trust you, so he keeps it with him. However, as I pointed out to him, it would be easier for someone to get the antidote if something happened to him."  
  
"And what did he say?"  
  
"No one would think he was stupid enough to have the antidote with him."  
  
"I figured."  
  
"I have a suggestion," said Jayward with thought. "Perhaps I could stall Edward, while you sneak in from a window. He lives in a rickety house somewhere out here. It's just me and him that hide there, so you wouldn't have to worry about running into anybody." He took a momentary pause. "After which, you could sneak behind him, and knock him out with the butt of that pistol you have with you. Then, we steal the antidote from him."  
  
"Not exactly the best of ideas, to the point it's crude, but I guess it'll work."  
  
"It has to work," muttered Jayward. Gene grunted, as he shifted Jim's weight in his arms. He slowly cast his eyes about the lovely landscape they passed. The sun had just risen a few hours ago, which made Gene realize just how early it was, compared to when he normally would get up.  
  
He yawned rather loudly, as he just wasn't a morning person. After feeling a small hand reach for his own, Gene looked down to see Jim with his eyes halfway open, and looking straight up at him. "I feel bad," he mumbled.  
  
"Well, you're certainly not going to feel like a million wong for awhile, that's for sure." Sighing, Jim shifted to get comfortable as best as he could. "Hey. Don't worry, kid. I'm tough, remember? I can get that antidote for ya', *and* get Knight out of the way."  
  
"Feh...we'll see." Gene glared at Jayward for making the un called for remark. "What? You shouldn't be telling him not to worry. There's still a possibility that we may not be able to get the antidote."  
  
"How hard can it be? There's two of us and one of him."  
  
"Two of us, one of him, and a whole collection of Caster guns," corrected Jayward.  
  
"*What?!*"  
  
"You heard me. Edward has a whole collection of different kinds of Caster guns, and a stash of bullets for them. He usually carries one for bluffing, but don't always rely on that fact." Gene didn't seemed too worried.  
  
"Oh, well. All the more stuff of his I can steal. Caster guns are very rare, and *very* expensive." He turned to Jayward. "How did he get so many?!"  
  
"Same way you want to get his."  
  
"Geez. He's been busy."   
  
"He never did waste much time," stated Jayward. Again, there was silence for a few moments, until they heard a loud thumping noise, and smoke began to float from the front of the hood. Jayward looked a bit miffed, as he quickly pulled over to the side of the dirt road.   
  
"What's up with this?" Inquired an uneasy Gene.   
  
"This is an old car. You can't expect it to work all of the time," said an irritated Jayward, as he stepped out of the car. He opened up the hood, and was greeting by black smoke, which consequently made him cough.  
  
"Anything you can do?"  
  
"There's a set of tools in the back, but I'm no mechanic."  
  
"I...can...fix it..." Gene looked at the sick child in his arms. He looked no better, but at least he was speaking from time to time.  
  
"*You?* But you're just a kid."  
  
"Don't underestimate him, boy. His father was a good mechanic. He was bound to pick up a few things from him."  
  
"Well, that doesn't help us much now. He can barely breathe, much less move."  
  
"For once, you may be right."   
  
"Oh, thank you. I'm so glad you think so," said Gene, sarcastically. Jayward coughed, as he slammed the hood down.  
  
"This is no time to be acting like that. If we want to help Jim, we've got to take this seriously."  
  
"Who's not taking this seriously? At least I wasn't the one who shot the kid," said Gene casually, as he looked down at Jim.  
  
"You're still on that?!" Yelled an aggravated Jayward.  
  
"Yeah! I am!"  
  
"I didn't have to help you, you know! I *care* about Jim, so I'm just gonna leave you out here to rot, while I get the antidote myse-" Jayward abruptly quit speaking, as his breathing became hard.  
  
"What?" Gene looked up, only to find Jayward, standing straight, with his eyes open wide. There was, however, one detail that stuck out the most. There was a man standing behind the shocked Jayward; a man named Edward Knight.  
  
"H-hello, Edwar-" Again, his sentence was cut off, as he slumped forward, his body landing on the hood. The only one who now stood was the old man, with a face of disgust, as he held up what looked like a tranquilizer gun.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Jim! Are you okay?" Gene Starwind leaned forward in his chair, as his partner was doubled over, coughing. "Jim!" He pushed the boy back upon the pillows.   
  
"Yeah..." Jim didn't resist Gene pushing him back down. "...Continue..."  
  
"No. I'm going to go look for a job to do, while you sleep," said Gene sternly.  
  
"...But Aniki..."  
  
"No!" And with that, Gene got up from his chair, and left the room. "I'm going to bring you a glass of water," he called over his shoulder. "After that, I'm leaving." Jim sighed as he looked out of the window from his little bed. He didn't like all of those interruptions. Listening didn't consume *that* much energy!  
  
Besides, he wanted to listen to the rest of the story, even though it didn't look like Gene was enjoying telling it.  
  
All of that didn't matter, however, as he fell into a peaceful sleep.  
  
Sleep had claimed his body so hard, that he didn't even feel a hand brush over his forehead, as a glass of water was placed on his bedside table.   
  
End part 4  



	5. The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking -...

The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking - 5  
  
His eyes slowly opened, when he heard the slamming of a door echo through his room. It was soon followed by a soft muttering. It was something about not being able to find a job. He thought it was quite funny how it was *he* who had always worried about their business, and the money. Now it seemed all responsibility was falling heavily on his partner. Maybe it would give Gene Starwind a greater appreciation for the other half of Starwind and Hawking Enterprises.  
  
Jim Hawking's eyes quickly shut, however, when he heard the door open, and footsteps that followed the creaking. "No need to pretend, Jim. I know you're awake." One of the ten year old's eyes opened. "And no, I did not find a job." Gene Starwind signed, as he walked over to Jim's bed, and sat in what seemed to be his new favorite chair.  
  
"Hm," grunted Jim, as he turned over on his side, so he could face Gene.  
  
"Do you even care?" Jim nodded in response. "Whatever. Could have fooled me."  
  
"...The story," muttered Jim. Gene sighed, as he ran his hand through his hair.   
  
"Jim, I've got to figure out a way to get money. You know that."   
  
"C'mon, Aniki..." To this, Gene sighed in annoyance.  
  
"Well, okay, but on one condition. After I finish the whole story, you won't bother me about another one again."  
  
"'Kay."  
  
"Okay. Now that I've made myself clear, I'll continue..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Well...it looks like my suspicions have been confirmed," chuckled Edward Knight, as he showed no signs of putting what looked like a tranquilizer gun down. "I would have thought Jayward would have come up with something more...cunning...if he wanted to get back at me for whatever it was I did." Gene bit his lip, as he pulled Jim closer to him. "Don't even think about running away, kid, or else you'll be fast asleep, like Jayward here." He motioned towards the still slumped over Jayward.  
  
"Why are you doing this? It really doesn't make any since. Look, it's not like I told anyone about this."  
  
"That's true, but what about the future?" Gene was silent, as the old man smiled. "It is very hard to predict, isn't it?" Gene honestly wanted to tell the guy he wouldn't report him, but he was too prideful do so. He probably wouldn't have believed him anyway. "Now tell me...what brings you here?" When Gene didn't respond, Edward decided to answer for him. "Well, from what I can tell, Jayward did not shoot you." He glanced down at Jim. "And from the looks of that kid in your arms, it seems he shot him instead. And now you want the antidote."   
  
Gene growled as he debated in his mind whether he should reach for his pistol or not. "Well, what was the point of that? You're certainly not going to give it to me. Why tell me something I already know?"  
  
"You shouldn't come to conclusions so quickly, kid," he said softly, as he pulled a vial of blue liquid from his pocket.  
  
"That's..."  
  
"The antidote," he finished, as he tauntingly waved it. "I really don't want to see the boy die. His father and mother? Feh...they had it coming. As for the boy? No. He doesn't deserve to die like this."  
  
"But you're not going to just give it to me. It'd be too easy that way."  
  
"What did I tell you about making conclusions?" Inquired Edward, with a smirk on his face. "That's okay, though. You were right this time."  
  
"Okay, guy. What do you want?" Edward laughed at the teen's question.  
  
"You're making it sounds like I'm asking you," he eyes Gene with a knowing smile, "for 1,000 wong. Of course...this whole thing wasn't worth 1,000 wong, now was it?"  
  
"You still didn't answer my question," said an irritated Gene.  
  
"All right. I suppose you deserve to know," sighed Edward. "I wish for a duel of some sort from you. I want a challenge. Not like that lame excuse for a fight you put up last night." He slowly walked over to the side of the car. "If you win, you get the antidote."  
  
"And if I lose?" Gene wanted to get all of the facts straight.  
  
"What does it matter? If you lose, you're dead. Common sense." Gene bit his lip in both anger and frustration.  
  
"What weapons do I get?" He queried.  
  
"None; I decided to make this interesting. Neither of us will have any weapons."  
  
"Fists only."  
  
"Yes," chuckled Edward, as he leaned against the car door, gun in hand. "You catch on quickly." Gene appeared to think for a moment, as he slowly, yet casually reached into his coat pocket, revealing a black pistol. In a flash, he aimed the weapon at Edward Knight, and he thought he had it made, as his finger was about to pull the trigger.  
  
However, before he got to make his move, he felt a painful prick in his shoulder, which began to burn without mercy. He felt the pistol fall out of his hands, but he was too dizzy to retrieve it. Despite Jim's soft cries, Gene slumped forward in his seat.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Ugh..." Though the voice was soft, it rang through his head, shattering the quiet that had claimed him. "Boy...you okay?" His head ached, as did his shoulder. Seeing was also difficult, as he soon discovered, when he opened his eyes.   
  
"Nothing I can't handle." Gene Starwind sat up, as he rubbed his eyes. When he could finally see clearly, he saw Jayward sitting right in front of him. Gene looked around the dark room they were in, and noticed cob webs in the corners of the room, as well as the grease stained wooden floors. Crates were everywhere, filled with long forgotten items.  
  
"Looks like we're in the basement," observed Jayward, as he also glanced around.  
  
"Yeah, I sort of figured that out." Gene took a brief pause, as he rubbed his aching temples. "Did Knight come down here yet?"  
  
"Yeah," replied Jayward. "You woke up right after he left." Gene's eyes darted around the floor. "What are you looking for?"  
  
"The kid," said Gene quickly. "Where's the kid?"  
  
"Edward has him."  
  
"How long have I been out?"  
  
"Several hours."  
  
"What?!" Gene stood up, as he began to examine the walls.  
  
"There's no way out of here, boy. I checked." Jayward also stood up, as he faced Gene. "Look...the kid has a few hours. Several, actually. Edward will be back down in a few minutes. You can talk then."  
  
"Jayward...exactly how long have I been out? Give me a rough estimate," demanded Gene.  
  
"I don't know! I just woke up myself. I'm only going by what Edward told me." Gene frowned as he leaned against the dirty, concrete wall.  
  
"Then we don't know if we've really been out for only a few hours or an entire day. So, we have no way of knowing whether the kid is dead or alive."  
  
"I think you've pretty much summed it up," sighed Jayward as he also heavily leaned against the wall. "There are no windows as well, and as a result we have no idea what time of day it is."  
  
"I know that," muttered Gene. "Sort of obvious, isn't it?" He sighed in exasperation as he once again sat down, his back leaning against the cold wall. "Great. I'm stuck in a basement, with *you*, and to make matters worse, some crazy old guy has that kid!"  
  
"Well, I certainly had no say in the matter," growled Jayward, as he remained standing.  
  
"Oh?" Gene looked up at Jayward with a glint of anger in his eye. "What if you did? What if this whole thing was set up between you, and Edward Knight? What if you're still working for him? Huh?" Jayward scowled, as he glared daggers at Gene.  
  
"Listen, boy," he said angrily, "if I were in cahoots with that man, I wouldn't be wasting my time down here, now would I? Especially with you!" He folded his arms, as he looked at the ceiling. "Besides...Jim and I are close. I don't want him to die. If we really want to save him, we must trust in each other...as impossible as it may seem."  
  
"Easier said than done." Just as the statement had left Gene's mouth, the two heard a door slowly creak open, and slam shut. The loud noise bounced from wall to wall. Gene looked over to the wooden set of stairs to the left of him, as he saw his captor walk down them.   
  
"Ah, you're awake. I figured as much, as I heard arguing down here." Edward Knight smiled, as he stood on the final step. "My...you look groggy."  
  
"I think we all know who's responsible for that," snarled Gene. Edward laughed, as he stepped onto the concrete floor.  
  
"Indeed." Gene quickly stood up, his hands clenched in fists of rage. "Now, now. We mustn't fight...not in here, anyway."  
  
"What do you mean, 'not in here'?" Inquired Jayward, as he looked at the old man. Edward glanced at Jayward briefly, before turning back to Gene.  
  
"Jayward, I'm in no mood to speak with you."  
  
"I didn't think so. Obviously you're in no mood to look at me, either."  
  
"Aren't we observant?" Jayward grunted in response, as he resumed looking at the ceiling. "Now...as I was saying. I still want that fight with you, kid. You're too prideful to go down easily, so I want you to have a chance. If not a large one, a small one at least."  
  
"Thanks a lot." The remark was obviously sarcastic.  
  
"Oh, you're welcome." Edward smiled. "Shall I give you time to wake up from you little cat nap, or should we go out into the field?"  
  
"Wait...how long have I been asleep?" Edward thought for a moment.  
  
"You'll find out as soon as we reach the field we'll be fighting in."  
  
"Okay, then." Gene ran his hand through his red hair, as he fit his lip. "Fine. We fight now."  
  
"Excellent." Edward grinned, as he looked at Jayward. "Jayward, I will allow you to watch from the porch. However, if you try to help this kid over here in any way...I'll be forced to make sure you never try again."  
  
"Fine by me, Edward," replied Jayward curtly. He turned to Gene.  
  
"I'm game. Let's get started." Gene smiled as he noisily cracked his knuckles.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Gene Starwind squinted at the brightness of the setting sun, as he walked onto the rickety porch of the old country house. As he glanced at the sky, which was smeared with the most magnificent oranges and purples. However, Gene wasn't thinking about the beautiful sunset.  
  
"You made a wise decision, boy," muttered Jayward, who was standing right next to Gene. "It looks like we've been out for most of the day. If you had decided to wait, the stakes would have been much higher."  
  
"They'd still be the same, either way," said Gene, as he turned to the older man. "We'd just have less time if I had waited." Sure enough, it was 5:00 PM...approximately 10 hours after Jim had been poisoned. "Or none at all."  
  
"Good grief! We're cutting this close, boy!"   
  
"Indeed." Edward walked between the two, a gun in hand, and a weak, sleeping Jim in the other. "But that's all the more reason to finish this quickly, am I correct?"  
  
"A fist fight like that could take hours, though," said Gene.   
  
"That's true, but I have no intention of letting it last that long, though. I'll be through with you in 10 minutes."  
  
"Yeah, we'll see, old man." Gene stepped off of the porch, and onto the hard, grassy ground.  
  
"We walk out to that field over there." Edward pointed to a large, spacious area that was covered in grass. "Well...except for you, Jayward. You will stay on the porch." He turned to his former friend. "And if you step in...well...your little friend will suffer the consequences." He motioned his head toward the little boy being held by his right arm.  
  
Jayward grumbled as he sat on the steps. "Fine. You have my word. I'll simply watch." He looked up at the teen, his expression grim. "Good luck...Gene." Gene nodded in response, as he began to walk to the field. Edward followed close behind, with the gun and Jim.  
  
It only took a few moments to reach the field, however, it seemed much longer to Gene. Earlier, he had checked to see if he had any weapons at all with him, but unfortunately, they had been taken from him. He knew that his opponent would have something up his sleeve, and he wanted to be prepared. If it weren't for the antidote, he would have tried to attack Edward. He figured if he made a move too early he would lose all chances of getting that and Jim back, however, and as a result, he decided to save it for the field.  
  
The older man smiled as he stopped walking. "This will be fine." He tossed his gun to the side, as well as Jim, who landed with a painful thud. Gene scowled, as he got into a fighting stance. "You are certainly eager for your death, kid."  
  
"No," muttered Gene as he lunged towards him, his fists ready to meet his captor's face. His enemy made no mover, however, as he stared straight ahead, his hands clasped behind his back. "I'm eager for YOURS!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Aniki," whispered Jim, "you can't stop there."  
  
"Well, I am, so deal with it," snapped Gene, as he hastily got up from his chair. Jim didn't understand why his partner was suddenly so upset. Was it hesitation he saw in his eyes? Could it possibly be that his aniki was keeping something from him? The idea was unthinkable! What could be so upsetting that Gene couldn't tell his partner?  
  
"You said you'd finish." Gene grumbled as he made his way to the door.  
  
"I need some air. That's all." Something was clearly wrong. But...Gene wouldn't keep anything from Jim...  
  
...right?  
  
Jim sighed as he heard the door slam shut. "Aniki..." His eyes trailed over to the window. "...What's wrong...?"  
  
End part 5   
  
  



	6. The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking -...

  
The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking - FINALE   
  
Gene Starwind sighed as he quietly walked into the kitchen, and sat down at the table. He had walked longer than he had intended. What was supposed to be a ten minute stroll had turned into a 40 minute saunter. Why was he so worried? He wanted to laugh at himself. He probably had worried Jim to death.  
  
But would Jim really understand? He had totally given away that he was hiding something, that much was for certain. Surely Jim wouldn't be angry at him for something like this. But then again, there was a possibility he would be hurt. Whether it be because he had lied to him for so many years, or because he didn't think he had been mature enough for the truth.  
  
"Well, might as well get it over with, Starwind," he muttered as he got up from the table. "The sooner, the better." He didn't bother knocking, as he walked into Jim's room. The boy wasn't asleep, as he was still propped against the pillows, obviously waiting for his partner's return.  
  
"You're back."  
  
"Yeah..." Gene sat down in the chair. "I guess I'll continue now."  
  
"Good." Jim smiled slightly as he closed his eyes. "You'd better."  
  
"Jim, I want you to listen to this part really hard."  
  
"I never could remember it."  
  
"I know," muttered Gene.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It seemed Gene's harsh blow would KO the old man for sure, and just as his large fist was about to connect with his opponent's face, he grinned.  
  
It disappeared however, as painful sensation blossomed through his fist, and up his arm. He screamed in pain as he knelt upon the ground, clutching his shoulder. Gene looked up to see Edward still standing straight, with a smile upon his face. One hand was behind his back, while the other was up in front of his face. Around his wrist was a golden band of some sort.  
  
"What the crap?!" Gene's eyes narrowed, as he stared at the golden band.   
  
"A shield of some sort," replied Edward, as he smirked. "I made it myself. Do you like it?" Gene scowled as he sat up.  
  
"I thought you said no weapons!"  
  
"I did. A shield is hardly a weapon." He lowered his hand. "Of course, if you are referring to that pain you felt," his grin became twisted, "you inflicted that upon yourself."  
  
"Why you -"  
  
"No need to be insulting." Edward slowly made his way towards Gene. "Besides...you're younger than I am. You should at least give me an advantage."  
  
"Advantage my butt! That's cheating!" Gene once again got into the fighting stance. "But I'm not going to just lay down and die!" He charged at the old man again, this time, aiming for somewhere different. Rather than punching the old man, he kicked him in his shin, which knocked him right off of his feet. He landed in the dirt, making his clothes filthy.  
  
Gene had knocked the wind out of Edward, but the old man didn't show any signs of that. He sat up, and looked up at Gene, slightly laughing.  
  
*What's his problem?" Gene was convinced that this guy had something wrong with him...mentally. The teen didn't waste any time thinking about though, as he went for another move. He ran towards Edward, and with a devastating kick, gave him a bleeding nose.   
  
"Enough of this!" He exclaimed, as he got up, wiping the crimson blood from his face. Gene realized he must have kicked him extremely hard, as the old man had a dazed look in his eye. "You've had your fun." He ran towards Gene with fury blazing in his eyes. "When I get through with you, the kid will suffer!"  
  
"Screw you!" Gene threw himself at his attacker, but again was greeted with the surging pain, as electricity felt as though it were consuming is entire body. "That...bracelet..." He fell over, as electricity seemed to bounce from his body. "Geez, old man..." He had put more force into that hit than he had wanted to, knowing that the more force his attacks had, the more he would hurt himself, if Edward used the shield.   
  
Edward laughed as he made his way to the writhing Gene. "What's wrong, kid? Am I playing to hard with you?"   
  
Gene gasped for breath as he struggled to get up. He was sent back down, however, after he was welcomed with a boot in the face. Little clouds of dirt seemed to surround him, the impact was so great.   
  
"Don't give up, boy!" Jayward's voice echoed across the field. "He's just an old man! Remember that!"  
  
"Sure, sure," coughed Gene, as he realized his lip was bleeding. After he had gotten the will to get up again, sure enough, he was kicked in the face again. Gene's face was now covered with the rosy - red liquid. This old man was pressing his luck, and Gene knew it.   
  
Edward laughed, as he went for another kick across Gene's bleeding face. However, Gene was quick enough to grab the dirty boot with both of his strong hands. "Ah! I haven't entirely worn you out!"  
  
"Not by a long shot," growled Gene, as he yanked on the foot, pulling Edward to the ground. The murderer grunted as he landed upon his back. Gene would have unleashed his wrath upon his enemy, but he was also on the ground, in the same manner as Edward. This was a mistake that would greatly cost him, as he felt the boot he had just grabbed smack him in the jaw.  
  
By now, his surroundings were just a blur of orange and purple above him, and a little green and brown swirled together beneath him. However, there was one thing he could see somewhat clearly, and that was the face of a wretched, dirty old man, with a twisted smile, towering above him. He knew his eyes were no longer cooperating with him, as his surroundings began to become somewhat dim. The grass tickled his bloody fingers, and for a brief moment, he wished it would all end.  
  
Edward's soiled boot fell upon the teen's chest. Gene screamed out in pain, as his chest felt as though it were being eaten away. How could he allow to this happen? He was Gene Starwind...owner of Starwind Enterprises. A lady's man. A dashing, brave young teen, who was too young to die.  
  
But age didn't matter, he concluded, as he saw the glimmer of a silver blade in the old man's hands. "Would you like me to end it now?" The mocking question left his opponent's lips, but Gene did not hear them. They seemed to be carried away by the fierce wind that began to pick up a fast pace, as did Gene's breath.  
  
"Cheap," he muttered, pain etched across his young face. A laugh sounded out from Edward, as he gripped the knife with his shielded hand.  
  
"Does it really matter? I won, and my conscience will never bother me about that. We all have cheated in life at one point or another."  
  
"And...the...future?" Gene struggled to get the words out.  
  
"If only you knew my past," muttered Edward softly, as he began to raise the knife.   
  
*Kid...Jim...maybe someday your death will be avenged...* His eyes briefly closed. *...And mine...* His breath became short, as a mighty gun shot rang out through the field. But...wasn't Edward using a knife? Gene's eyes flew open, as he felt a sharp blade graze the side of his face. He felt warm blood trickle down his cheek, when he heard the soft thud of the deadly object landing in the grass.   
  
A tremendous pain filled him, as something heavy landed upon his already injured chest. He kept it bottled inside, however, as he realized the thing that had landed on him was a person...  
  
...Edward Knight.   
  
He felt the back of the no longer breathing man, and he knew he didn't have to look to see what that heated liquid, soaked into the man's shirt was. *But who?* He painfully shoved a dead Edward Knight off of his chest, and he easily rolled into the crimson colored grass. Gene gently sat up, and the sight before him made his eyes grow wide, and his bleeding mouth slightly drop open.  
  
There, lying in the grass was an unconscious Jim Hawking, and resting in his limp hand, was the pistol the now deceased man had tossed aside just minutes ago.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"You mean...I...?" Gene solemnly nodded. "...But you said...that *you* killed..."  
  
"I know what I told you then," muttered Gene, "and it was a lie. *This* is the truth."  
  
"But...why?" Jim couldn't help but wonder.  
  
"Geez, Jim! You were seven years old, and you killed a man. You didn't remember it, and you expected someone to tell you? What kind of person do you think I am?" He stopped for a brief moment. "Don't answer that." He turned away from Jim. "Look, I understand if you're mad at me for not telling you all of these years that you killed Edward Knight, but I didn't know what else to do."  
  
"I'm not mad, Aniki," sighed Jim. "He got what he had coming to him." There was a long silence before Jim began to appear slightly uncomfortable. "Um...go on..."  
  
Gene wondered if this new knowledge would change his partner or not, once it had time to sink in. Though very mature for his age, Jim was only 10 years old, and as a result of that, he had no idea of how he would take it. Only time could tell, and he hoped that Jim would remain untainted, despite his actions of when he was younger. He pushed all of that out of his head, though, as he went on with the story...   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Jim!" Gene painfully got up, and quickly made his way over to the little boy. Jayward, however, had gotten there first, and was already checking his pulse.   
  
"He's alive, boy. Go check Edward's coat pocket for the antidote. He should have it there." Gene inwardly sighed, as it hurt so much just to move. He wondered how Jim had managed to move in the state he was in. He realized, though, that the gun really hadn't been that far from him, making it somewhat easy for him to get hold of it.  
  
When he reached the bloody body of Edward Knight, he looked at it in disgust. It seemed Gene's death would not have to be avenged, nor would Jim's, and he certainly didn't know of anyone who would want to avenge Edward's death...as mean as it sounded. He knelt down with difficulty, as he rolled Edward over upon his back. Yes, it hurt very much, but this current victory had given the teen a sudden jolt of energy.  
  
After digging through the dirty pockets, he finally found a vial of blue liquid...  
  
...and right next to it, another vial of a purple liquid.  
  
"What's taking so long?" Called an urgent Jayward. Gene didn't answer as he studied the two vials in his hand carefully. Jayward quickly ran over to Gene, with Jim in his arms. "Well?"  
  
"There're two," muttered an irritated Gene, as he rubbed his temples. He really needed some rest.  
  
"Two antidotes?" Gasped Jayward.   
  
"Either that...or one's a poison." Jayward set a barely breathing Jim next to Gene.  
  
"We don't have much time, boy. We have to choose one...now." Gene examined both vials, as he bit his lip. An idea seemed to hit him, however, as his eyes lit up.  
  
"I've got it." He handed the purple vial to Jayward. "This is the antidote."  
  
"How are you so sure?" Inquired Jayward, who was looking a bit doubtful, as he grabbed the small vial.  
  
"Just give it to him," snapped Gene weakly. Jayward scowled, but slightly nodded.  
  
"Fine. I trust you." He opened up the small, purple vial, and held it up to Jim's lips.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to use a needle?" Jayward shook his head in reply, as he continued feeding the liquid to the poisoned boy. "How long?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Jayward answered seriously. "It depends if this is the right one or not." Gene glanced at Edward's body, and his still open, piercing eyes, which were now vacant of life. They had a blank stare to them   
  
"What were his reasons?" Inquired Gene.  
  
"Who's?" Jayward looked back at Gene, as he set the empty container upon the ground.  
  
"Edward Knight's."  
  
"Vengeance, I think," replied Jayward. "If not that, he had none. He was just crazy."  
  
"If it was because of revenge, why?" Gene was suddenly very curious.  
  
"When James Hawking was your age, he got into a terrible car accident. There was a family that had been caught in the accident. A wife, her husband, and three children. They were all killed, except for the husband, and James, who both suffered minor injuries."  
  
"...And the husband was Edward Knight."  
  
"Right." Jayward glanced back at his former friend's body. "He went mad without his family. I tried to get him to get some help, but he refused to. He said he would be at peace once he killed James Hawking. I never thought he would actually kill him, though. And when he did, he still wasn't at peace."  
  
"Geez." Gene raised an eyebrow at the body. He turned away from it, however, and looked at Jim. "I think he's coming around."  
  
Sure enough, the young boy's eyes fluttered open, as he softly moaned. "A-aniki?" This time, it was Jim's turn to get some raised eyebrows. Jim slowly sat up as he rubbed his eyes with his chubby little hands.  
  
"Looks like it was the right one," muttered Jayward, as he helped Jim up. "Are you okay, Jim?" Jim looked up at Jayward, with his large, dark eyes.  
  
"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm okay. Just a little dizzy." Jim's eyes slowly trailed over to the lifeless Edward Knight. "Mr. Jayward...did you...?" Jayward slowly shook his head.  
  
"No, actually. It was-"  
  
"Me." Gene limped over to Jim, with an impish grin. "Shot him right in the back!" Jim's eyes widened with admiration.  
  
"Are you okay?" Jayward looked over at Gene with anger burning in his eyes, as Jim saw Gene's injured state.  
  
"Yeah, of course, kid! Just a little scratched up." Jayward grabbed Gene by the shoulder, as he smiled sweetly and Jim. Gene grunted in pain, while glaring daggers at the older man.   
  
"Sit down a minute, Jim, and rest, while I talk to Gene a little bit, okay?" Jim raised an eyebrow as he looked at Jayward with a quizzical expression.  
  
"Uh...okay." He sat down in the grass, while eyeing the dead body that was hardly ten feet away from him wearily. He didn't notice his two friends were quietly arguing behind him.  
  
"Boy, what are you doing? I figured you'd take the credit for yourself," hissed Jayward quietly, not wanting Jim to hear.  
  
"It'll do the boy good," replied Gene coolly. "He just lost his parents. Do you really want to add to that stress by telling him he killed someone?"  
  
"Well, no..."  
  
"Then play along." Gene glanced back at Jim, who was still staring at the body. "Now, let's get back to the kid before he catches onto something."  
  
"You know, boy," muttered Jayward, as he crossed his arms, "you're not as bad as I thought you were."  
  
"Heh. I'll take that as a compliment."  
  
"You're welcome." After a slight chuckle, the two walked over to the pale boy.  
  
"Hey, kid! You sure you're okay?" Gene couldn't help but be slightly concerned, as the child seemed to have been drained of his color. Jim slowly nodded, as he looked up at Gene.  
  
"I'm still dizzy." Jayward once again helped Jim up, as Gene began to ponder a bit of a problem.  
  
"Kid...you said you could fix the car. You think you're up to doing it now?" Jim slowly nodded in response to Gene's question. "Jayward...do you know where the nearest lake is?"  
  
"Uh...yeah," replied Jayward. "Just north of here. Why?"  
  
"We've got a body to get rid off."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Prodigy child," muttered Gene, as he watched his little friend do his magic on the classic car. If only he possessed such mechanic skills, maybe he would do a better business. It certainly would be an interesting asset. A muttered "thanks" came from the hood, followed by the clanking of many tools assisting the young boy.  
  
"A true mechanic," commented Jayward, who sitting in the diver's seat, ready to start the car.  
  
"Try it now!" Called Jim, as he wiped a trickle of sweat from his cheek. Soon, the night was filled with the wondrous sound of an engine. The child sighed with exhaustion, as he sank to the ground.  
  
"Kid, you okay?" Gene winced, as he walked over to the kneeling Jim, and placed a hand on his shoulder. His injuries didn't seem to be feeling better. Jim looked up at the teen, and what Gene saw almost made his heart sink. His dark eyes were filled with the anxiety he had seen almost a day before. And they seemed so empty, and lacking of life.  
  
...A lot like the time he had lost his father.  
  
Jim nodded, as his eyes trailed away from Gene's. "Yeah, I just need to go to bed." But where would he sleep? That question, Jim decided, would not be asked until the proper moment.   
  
"Hey! Let's get going, boy!" Called Jayward to Gene. "We haven't got all night!" Gene glared through the windshield, after he shut the hood.   
  
"Will you keep it down?" He hissed, as Jim got up from the ground.  
  
"Fine, boy." Jim climbed in the front seat, as Gene picked up a large garbage bag, with something rather heavy in it, from the ground, and tossed it into the back seat.   
  
"Do I have to sit in the back?" Grumbled Gene as he glanced at Jayward.  
  
"I didn't think you would be one to be afraid of a harmless body, boy," said Jayward, softly.  
  
"It's not that, it's just that-" Gene stopped speaking, as he climbed into the back seat, still a good distance away from the bag. "Oh, forget it. Let's go."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hey, Jayward. You're going to wrong way!" Gene growled, as he glanced at the black garbage bag wearily.   
  
"No, boy," replied Jayward, as he continued to drive into the city limits. "I'm not."  
  
"Where are you going?" Jim inquired, as he stared at the bright lights of the city.  
  
"Home...Gene's home."  
  
"What?!" Gene painfully leaned forward, as he glared at Jayward. "What about the body?"  
  
"I'll take care of it."  
  
"But - "  
  
"Listen, boy," snapped Jayward. "I'm doing you a favor. You're injured. You need to get that taken care of. Besides that, I'm Edward's friend. At least give me the right to dispose of his body." The older man's eyes narrowed, as they remained on the road. "But...you wouldn't understand, would you?"  
  
"No, I guess not," replied Gene harshly, as he leaned back. "And you're taking the kid?"  
  
"I'll leave that up to him." Jim bit his lip, as he looked at Jayward. He couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.  
  
"Hm." Gene folded his arms, as he closed his eyes. "Whatever."  
  
For the rest of the ride there, no one said a word, with the exception of Gene muttering something to himself. Just as Gene appeared to be falling asleep, the car came to an abrupt stop. "Get out, boy. We're here." Gene's eyes shot up, as he jerked his already throbbing shoulders. He grunted in reply, as he opened the door, and stepped out onto the cool, damp side walk. "And, boy?" Gene barely even looked at Jayward.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Take care of yourself." Gene was speechless, as he finally looked at Jayward.   
  
"Uh...yeah, sure."   
  
"And...Gene?" Jayward briefly paused. "To put it bluntly, I'm leaving Jim with you."  
  
"What?!" Gene's eyes grew wide, as two pairs of eyes stared at Jayward.   
  
"It's not easy for me, either, but I can't take care of Jim."  
  
"Well, neither can I!" Shot back Gene.  
  
"Jim is a smart boy. He could help you in your business."  
  
"No!" Meanwhile, in the midst of the arguing, Jim as in his seat, eyeing Jayward with a look of horror. These people were talking about him as though he wasn't even there, and he honestly didn't appreciate it. Why didn't he have some say in the matter? He had just lost his parents, and now these people were going to decide his fate?! It wasn't fair! Either way, it was looking grim. While Jayward was a good friend to Jim, he honestly didn't look like someone who would be good at raising a child. And Gene? Hah! He didn't even look like he could take care of himself.  
  
Though the logical answer would be Jayward, Jim knew it wasn't the right one...not for him, or for Jayward. And as the logic was not present with the choice of Gene Starwind, something was pulling the seven year old to him. Whether it be because of his cool, tough, exterior, or the fact he looked like James Hawking, or what some called intuition, Jim would never know. He *did* know that he should speak up quickly, however, before his chances were gone. Unfortunately, he never did, as he felt a hand grab him, and shove him out of an already open car window.  
  
"Jayward...!" Jim's voice cried out, as he landed painfully on the concrete. The next thing he knew, his lungs were burning from the smell of car exhaust, and the night was once again silent.   
  
"AGH! JAYWARD! YOU-" Gene Starwind kicked some rubble in frustration. Jim just sat and watched, as the older boy ran his hand through his hair. He wondered if he would just leave him on the streets, or except the unfair responsibility of taking him in. The child's body stiffened, as he felt Gene's eyes burning through him. "Well, kid. It looks like it's just you and me."   
  
"Yeah, Aniki, I mea-"  
  
"No, I guess you can call me that. It's better than you screwing up on my name all the time. I'd better just get used to hearing 'Aniki'." Jim raised an eyebrow at Gene. "In other words, you're staying with me."  
  
"But you said-"  
  
"I know what I said," muttered Gene, "but no one deserves to live on the streets, or with that friend of yours. He ditched you pretty fast." Gene walked over to where Jim was sitting, and helped him off the ground, wincing the whole time. "Ugh, I need sleep...and food."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Gene sighed, as he counted the cracks in the ceiling, one by one, just as he had done the night before. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with Jim. Jayward had been somewhat of a help, and he was actually starting to like him a little, but now, all of what little respect had risen for him had vanished. He lost count for the fifth time, as he closed his eyes in pain. When they finally opened, his head turned to what had caused the pain. Jim Hawking's little head rested upon Gene's broad, yet bruised shoulder. Gene hadn't realized how cramped the couch could become until just recently.   
  
He shivered slightly, as he realized his shirt was damp. After looking at where the child's head lay more carefully, he realized that Jim had been...crying. His shirt was soaked in the child's tears, that had been shed in his sleep.  
  
"Aniki..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Gene Starwind snapped back into reality, as his eyes darted around the room. How long had he been rambling on? He just wasn't sure. Realizing he was holding someone in his arms, he looked down to find a 10 year old sleeping Jim, his peaceful face still drained of color. "What the...?" He glanced at the clock, to find that it was already 9:00 PM. Jim had the right to be sleeping.  
  
After setting the ailing, yet still sleeping child back onto his bed, and covering him up in the sheets, he brushed his hand across his forehead, while noticing the fever had gone down a bit. "Sleep tight, partner." He quietly exited the room, and shut the door.   
  
After grabbing his coat, he left the building where Starwind and Hawking Enterprises lay, and entered the cool, crisp air of the night. He often went for walks alone on nights such as this, some lasting for 5 minutes, others an hour. It depended on what his mood was.   
  
As he walked, he didn't notice a figure that was leaning heavily against the wall of an old building. Though his face was covered in scars gained in fights, no old friend would be able to forget those gray eyes, and blond hair. Gene could have sworn he heard the man mutter, "Nice to see you again...boy", but when he turned to look at the familiar person, he was already gone.  
  
Shivering, Gene shoved his hands into his pocket. He noticed, with slight surprise, that his shirt was somewhat damp. After dismissing it as sweat, he decided he probably needed to bathe. However, his eyebrow raised, when he realized it was not sweat that had dampened his shirt, for he had already been bathed; bathed in Jim's tears.  
  
END   
~*~  
  
Author's notes: I'd like to thank Courtney, a friend of mine, and Melfina, one of our very own authors on FF.net, for putting up with me, encouraging me, and helping me. Thanks, ladies! Also, I'd like to thank those who read this story, and to those who reviewed it. If it weren't for you guys, this story wouldn't be here.  



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